


and his angels were thrown down with him

by ranianke



Category: Campaign (Podcast), Campaign: Skyjacks (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:08:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranianke/pseuds/ranianke
Summary: They were falling.The sky peeled away as they watched, its familiar deep blues fading, fading as they fell.Flashes of white passed through their vision, annihilating the world in brief strips as they watched the blue, stretching and brightening and dimming overhead.They were feeling.Pinpricks of fire spread into waves that crashed over them. Agony and wretchedness tumbled in a maelstrom of misery.——Like a litany of saints, they learned the pains.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	and his angels were thrown down with him

They were falling.

The sky peeled away as they watched, its familiar deep blues fading, fading as they fell.

Flashes of white passed through their vision, annihilating the world in brief strips as they watched the blue, stretching and brightening and dimming overhead.

They were feeling.

Pinpricks of fire spread into waves that crashed over them. Agony and wretchedness tumbled in a maelstrom of misery.

If this was what humans experienced, it was no surprise they became wicked. What world was this, that the act of existence alone inflicted pain?

The fire raged and ebbed, but it never left the two swashes stretching the length of their back. Trenches gouged with blood and betrayal wept without eyes and screamed without voice.

There had once been eyes there.

_Clouds of feathered white, ripping, and fire._

They knew they had once been, had always been, would always be whole and magnificent. Now, forever, they were burning.

The sky above grew whiter and whiter as the hell below deepened and spread. It exerted an inexorable force, drawing them down.

When all that remained was the blue, they saw no more.

———

They awoke in brown and red. Blurry faces passed in and out of view. They felt with untouched skin and raw nerve, drowning in an invisible flood of sensation. This feeling was not the fire and burning; it was sharper, more contained. They convulsed with it, small tremulous quivers that stole their body from them, making it dance to the murmurs and whispers.

A face reappeared and drew a heavy cloth over their body.

The pain lessened. They remembered seeing shivers and cloth before, and they mouthed what the humans then had cried. _Cold._

This must be cold.

———

Like a litany of saints, they learned the pains. _Cold. Heat. Hunger. Frailty. Fear. Rage._ Some of the pains were in their skin; others, their gut. Some screamed with no bodily presence at all, rolling through their muscles and mind, plying and toying with sinew and synapse as they willed like strings on an instrument

Some they knew through faint memories, having seen the pantomimes and crude plays that humans had enacted for them, screaming and writhing.

Some they named through the words of other humans, matching long-forgotten plaintive whines to the now all too present agonies of a body they had never wanted. 

———

“Are you hungry?”

_I….don’t know._

“You’re freezing. Come inside and I’ll give you some soup. Let’s get you warmed up.”

_Warmed._

The liquid went down their throat and hands touched their face. Both hands and soup brought a soft burning, a release of pain, erasure of cold, a … comfort.

They liked warm.

———

As they grew stronger, they heard more words.

“—right out of the sea—“ 

“—those scars—“

“—I don’t think it’s human—”

“—doesn’t even understand—“

One day a face sat looking for a long time.

“Can you hear me?”

They thought a long time before moving their throat, contorting their mouth around a sound.

Nothing like a word came out, but the noise seemed to be enough.

“Who—what are you?”

They were silent. The things they knew did not lend themselves to speech.

They turned and stared out the window toward the faint, pale blue.

The face turned with them to look out the window. That face saw sky, and a building that hulked dark across the horizon.

“You from the church?”

_Yes._

And no.

“You from — you see that church there?”

They stared at the blue, empty and open.

“That big building there. Doesn’t look like a church, much. Not since the gable collapsed in the storm.”

Their eyes focused on the dark, crumpled roofline silhouetted against the blue.

_Gable._ A thing lost from a place of God.

Their mouth moved once more.

“G—ga—.”

Again, they forced flesh to make word and sound that once had echoed with thought alone.

”Ga—ble.”

The face turned, eyes large and filled with some kind of pain they did not yet have a word for.

“Gable? Is that —is that your name?”

_Gable._

The word carried a warmth in its brokenness.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://spookyseahorse.tumblr.com) if you like.


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